


The Master's Illness

by dcisamtyler



Series: Simm!Master One-Shots [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Illnesses, Other, needy!master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcisamtyler/pseuds/dcisamtyler
Summary: When the Master comes down with some sort of "space illness" that leaves Time Lords very sick, you have to take care of him. Even if he ends up being needy and annoying.Fluff and Whiny!Master alert.
Relationships: The Master (Doctor Who)/Reader, The Master (Simm)/Reader, The Master (Simm)/You
Series: Simm!Master One-Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851601
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	The Master's Illness

All was quiet on the Master’s TARDIS. Finally.

You hummed peacefully. You were finally free for the night. Your mind churned with all of the endless possibilities. 

You pursed your lips. You hadn’t taken a dip in the Master’s jacuzzi or the adjacent swimming pool in a while. There was still an entire side of the library you haven’t even glanced at. And his epic theater room had an array of Earth and alien films to consider. After all, the TARDIS’s mix of kettle and caramel corn was your favorite.

Hell, now that you thought about it, you were in such a good mood that you’d even consider watching the Master’s favorite film. You always shrugged it off because it was in Gallifreyan and four hours long in human time, but the Master had watched it 1,545,000 times. It had to be good, right?

You leaned against his closed bedroom door, closing your eyes and breathing in, finally content.

Though, you waited for a few moments. You knew better. Even in normal cases, the Master was like a fussy toddler when it came to sleep. He didn’t want to sleep, rest or relax, ever. There were too many worlds to see, lots of alien races to threaten, the whole universe to slowly take over…

And after all, resting was a Boring Human Thing, only to be used to “recalibrate their stupidity to its superior setting.” Except in your case, naturally. To him, well - you were different. You needed your rest to continue being the only human he would ever enjoy. You were special. He loved you (though you were certain he was never, ever going to say it). He needed to keep you around.

But as it was, how the Master was at that moment was not normal. He absolutely needed his rest this time, even if it was a Boring Human Thing.

You listened closely with your ear against the door. You could hear the soft purr of his snore with the rise and fall of his chest. Part of you melted at the sound. You loved him so much, despite how he had been treating you the past couple of days.

Of course, despite the bad moments – there were good parts. He never made an inappropriate comment, made suggestive faces at you, or pulled you in for a sloppy kiss as you undressed him. He simply watched with a sleepy face, trying to keep his eyes open as you would pull his black hoodie off, only giving an indignant whimper at the time you accidentally pulled too hard. He even helped – slowly slipping into a new pair of sweatpants himself. But it was hard to watch. He hissed and moaned at the feeling of moving his body.

He was aching all over. You hadn’t seen him in pain like this before.

You couldn’t believe it when he told you, in between gasps of pain, the first night.

Yes, your superior, genius, and amazing (all his words) Master managed to walk his way into a mysterious and rare “space illness” that rendered him useless and completely ill after your trip to the planet Tizc. While you certainly enjoyed your visit as you watched their five-legged goats gallop over sweeping valleys of space flowers, and saw the purple waterfall that fed into a lake of shimmering lavender, the Master definitely hadn’t. He had contracted the illness almost instantly and you had to help him back into the TARDIS.

This was no human flu. This illness affected Time Lords so badly that in past cases, it drove them into regeneration if they didn’t take the proper time to rest. And the worst part was, there was no cure but time, a special mix of fluids only for Time Lords, and of course, rest.

You had spent the past few days with him. He was so exhausted the first day that he slept the entire time. You had to wake him up to give him his fluids. But the next two were worse because he wasn’t getting any better, but he was gaining his “Master-ness” back. 

His impatience and frustration with the illness wore you thin. One time, he didn’t want the cocktail of fluids you had to give him. He grabbed your hand as you set the cup to his mouth, and with all his remaining strength, nearly broke your wrist as he tossed your arm away from him, sending the fluids all over his blankets.

You swore in every language you could. 

And then it happened a second time. 

At that point, you stormed out, threatening to throw yourself into the time vortex. The Master protested, dragging out his sweetest tone. When you stomped back in, unable to resist him, he nearly said it. The three words you thought you’d never hear come out of his mouth.

But of course, they didn’t. Instead, in his sleepy sick voice, he coughed out that the trip to Tizc was your idea, insinuating that all of it was your fault.

So now, at the end of the third day, you were grateful to finally get some peace and quiet, away from the Master and the “loving” insults.

You were finally about to let go of the doorknob of the Master’s bedroom when there was a loud moan from inside. You could hear the mattress shifting as if he was moving around. You nearly ignored it, wondering if he was simply having a bad dream.

But then there was a large inhale. “Y/N!”

It had clearly taken him all of his energy to shout because his voice cracked at the final syllable.

You frowned, immediately letting go of the doorknob to run your palms over your face in frustration. Of course. All of the time and effort it took to get him into bed had gone to waste.

So much for popcorn and a showing of that Gallifreyan film.

“Y/N,” he croaked again. “I know you’re out there, little human. I can see your shadow in front of the door.”

You stopped, pulling all of your own energy together. All you wanted to do was burst in that door and tell him off. You were not his mother, but his companion, and you needed to relax after taking care of him.

After a few breaths in, you turned around and opened the door, letting the light of the TARDIS stream into the Master’s bedroom. You were about to shout at him when your gaze fell on him, small and meek, shivering in his hoodie. He had his hood up, and as he stared at you with swollen eyes, he dramatically pulled the strings of his hood so that it shriveled up in front of his face.

“Master,” you breathed. All of your frustration seemed to melt when you saw him there in that bed. He was clearly in pain, shaking like a furless puppy in the cold. Though you had to bite back a grin at the sight of his hood around his face.

“Y/N,” he said again, this time a lot softer. Like he was happy to see you. Like a man in love.

He pouted and patted the space next to him.

You knew what this was about. He wanted you to sleep with him. You gave him a look of sympathy. “I can’t stay here. I’ll only distract you.”

He stayed silent for a moment before he let out a little laugh. “I wish you could distract me. It’s been way, way too long since we’ve…distracted each other…and that hurts more than anything else.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to respond. You shook your head at him, holding back a laugh. “Master." 

“Sorry.”

“Just go back to sleep, love,” you urged, reaching your hand back to grab onto the doorknob.

You hadn’t moved from the doorway. If you had walked over to him, he would have pulled you in and held you there with all that he had left. And you – you weren’t any better. You would have enjoyed it, probably more them him, and then you wouldn’t get any sort of time away from him. You had to save your sanity.

As you turned around to leave, the Master gave a frustrated hum like a little kid and shifted in his spot.

“No! You can’t leave!” He shouted. Now, the sound practically echoed off the walls of his bedroom. This was truly old-Master. The frustration he had built up left his mouth with his yell, and he was about to threaten you. You had this happen the day before.

After this much time with the Master, nothing about him scared you. You knew where you stood. He could say anything he wanted to you, but you knew that he would never actually hurt you. “Unless…that’s what you want, of course,” he’d insist, with a wink.

But that didn’t stop him from trying to be “Big Bad Master,” despite his size if he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Like an adult-sized toddler, he couldn’t understand the word “no” unless it was coming from his mouth. If you told him you didn’t want to do something, he would hover over you with his hand around your throat, holding you against a wall. You’d watch, your breathing half as steady as his, staring into his hazel eyes, and wait it out. It never went too far.

In fact, you knew the routine. Every time, he’d wait a few moments. Then he’d narrow his eyes at you in one last attempt, before giving an audible groan and ripping his hand off your neck. While you'd catch your breath, he’d stalk off to sulk in the console room.

But this time, he couldn’t physically threaten you. He could barely walk by himself.

You heaved a sigh. This was a whole different version of the Master. This one was definitely more needy than anything else.

You heard him dramatically sniff and groan from under the covers. “You have to stay with me,” he insisted. Though he didn’t sound as threatening as before, because his voice cracked. “I can’t sleep.”

“If I come and lay with you, will you sleep?” You asked, opening the door further.

The light illuminated his face as he pulled his hood off, and his eyes sparkled. “I might.”

You sighed, walking over to the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the covers.

Slowly, the Master grabbed onto you and gave you a satisfied little smirk as you placed your fingers in his blonde hair. 

You began playing with it, softly stroking it as his breathing steadied. You could feel his hearts pounding against your chest. You sat there in silence, the Master in your arms, wondering how you were going to get this difficult Time Lord to sleep. 

After some time, you peeked down at him. He was still awake. He peered up at you with a grin. He was eating this up. 

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes lingering from your eyes to your lips. Then he burrowed his face back against your chest and mumbled something. It was so soft you didn't completely hear it, but your heart gave a little jump at what you thought you might have heard. Three little words.

"Hm?" You asked nonchalantly.

The Master glanced up at you. While he tried to give you a tough look, his eyes still sparkled. "Don't make me say it again, Y/N."

It was hard to keep the smile off your face. But you tried, biting your lip. Knowing the Master, it was best to not make a big deal out of it. Otherwise, he'd never say it again. You let it sink in, and instead of saying it back, you leaned down to kiss his forehead. It burned under your lips.

You cleared your throat. “How about I tell you a story? Will that get you to sleep?”

“What?”

“I can tell you a bedtime story.”

The Master nearly pulled away from you. “Are you serious? Me, a bedtime story? Am I a child?"

You closed your eyes, rubbing your forehead with a noncommittal noise.

It was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't seem to write the Master in a case where he's truly a threat. I just want to cuddle that little pain in the ass, hahah.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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